


Happy Bithday Pietros

by goldtitaniumman



Series: Bithdays [1]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 14:19:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15687126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtitaniumman/pseuds/goldtitaniumman
Summary: Pietros shares a story from his past and Barca does his best to give Pietros what he didn't even know he needed.





	Happy Bithday Pietros

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this written for _years _and I thought maybe someone else would like to read it too.__

It took Pietros a few moments to figure out why exactly he was awake before Barca. Usually Barca would rise early and coax him up with soft kisses before they left the comfort of their makeshift bed to start their respective tasks.

 

The realization came in waves, first of happiness, which he had so long learned to associate with this particular date, then of deep sadness when he remember that any joy that accompanied this day had long been stolen from him.

 

No matter how many times it happened it always felt like a new wound.

 

"You wake before me and the sun," Barca muttered sleepily, drawing Pietros close to his broad chest to speak quietly into his hair. "What keeps you from sleep? Only whisper the name of those responsible and see them vanquished."

 

Pietros could not help the smile that tugged at his lips. "The foe is only the past, not even you, Beast of Cartridge, could tackle such an enemy."

 

"You underestimate me, little one," Barca said, playfully nipping at Pietros' ear. After his lover’s laughter died down he spoke again, this time more seriously. "Now tell me what troubles you, even if I cannot battle the past, I will gladly shoulder some of its heavy burden."

 

Pietros bit his lip nervously, conscious of how foolish his thoughts would seem to someone like Barca. There were so many more important things to worry about than a silly day, but he knew that Barca would not simply let the topic die. 

 

"It is the anniversary of my birth," he muttered, face heating from embarrassment. 

 

Barca looked at him expectantly, encouraging him to continue.

 

“I never knew my parents, they were both gone before I could remember them, sold to some other villa I suppose. But I grew up serving in a house with one of the woman who helped deliver me. Every year on this day she would wake me before the sun to wish me a happy birthday and present me with a gift. It was never anything grand, sometimes it was allowing me part of the day free from work or sweets stolen from the kitchen. It was always my favourite day...something to look forward to." When he finally stopped talking, Pietros felt more exposed than he did while wearing almost nothing at one of Lucretia's lavish parties. He had never shared that story with another soul.

 

Barca was silent for a few moments, Pietros held his breath in anticipation of mockery. 

 

What he received instead was a soft kiss on his temple. "Happy birthday," was all Barca said before pulling him in closer. 

 

Pietros felt his eyes water. He may not be receiving time off of work or any sweet treats, but he would gladly trade all of those for his lover’s arms. 

 

When he woke again, Pietros was sleepy as usual, what was unusual however was the empty bedroll and the sound of swords clashing in the distance. Cursing, he quickly stood and dressed, already dreading what punishment Oenomaus would have in store for him for his lateness. 

 

As he ran through the halls of the ludus he wondered desperately why Barca had not woken him as he had always done. The carelessness hurt.

 

Pietros slowed down, panting as he approached Oenomaus. "Apologies! I overslept, I-"

 

"Enough," Oenomaus barked, "someone else was sent to tend to your duties while you recover."

 

"Recover?" Pietros asked, "but I feel perfectly well."

 

Oenomaus looked at him as if he were a particularly slow child. "The boy is already here. If you would like I could send him away and you could return to work, or you could go back to your quarters and thank whichever God you prefer for the blessing of a day free from work." 

 

Pietros was speechless. Was he truly being given an entire day to himself? Instead of questioning his good fortune, Pietros clumsily thanked Oenomaus and hurried away. 

 

Before could reach the small space he and Barca called theirs, he was stopped by the villa's cook. 

 

"Here," the woman said gruffly, offering him a parcel before turning away.

 

"Wait! Am I to deliver this to a gladiator or-"

 

"Is for you. If asked it was not given to you from me, clear?" she said in her harsh, heavily accented, voice.

 

The looked she fixed him with could cut iron so he quickly agreed. 

 

Continuing down the halls of the ludus,  Pietros waited until he reached his room before ripping away the paper of the parcel to reveal a heavenly smelling treat. 

 

He had only seen these at parties thrown by Lucertia, and had tasted only the remainders when he cleaned up afterwards. 

 

Pietros took a hesitant bite. He immediately had to hold back the pleasured moan that threatened to escape. It tasted somehow better than it smelled. The flavours of the still-warm layers of pastry and honey filled his mouth. It wasn't until he was halfway through the dessert that he even thought to question why the cook, who he was almost certain hated him, had suddenly decided to show him such kindness. 

 

His mind was suddenly drawn back to his confession to Barca earlier that morning. When he had shared his past he had no thought that Barca would take it to heart. His throat felt tight, overwhelmed with the display of love and kindness. He had never dreamed of finding someone like Barca, especially in a place like this.

 

After a few moments, Pietros dried his tears of overwhelming joy and folded the rest of the pasty away to later share with Barca. 

 

He spent the rest of the day cleaning their small living space and idly tending to the birds. The day was like nothing he had ever experienced. Making him hunger even more intensely for the life freedom that Barca had so often told stories of.

 

At dinner he met with Barca and the other gladiators for a meal, but it was not until they retired to their bed that he had a chance to speak privately with Barca. 

 

“Thank you-” he began. But before he could even finish Barca pulled him into a deep kiss that so clearly told of his love and affection. Barca had always been better at action than words. 

 

Pietros tried to do the same with this kiss. Calling to mind all the ways in which he loved this man more than he had ever loved anything before. 

 

The look that Barca gave him when they pulled apart made him think that he was at least in part successful. 

 

They spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms speaking softly of a time in the future where they and their children would have more days like this one, far away from slavery and violence.

**Author's Note:**

> Then they buy their freedom and live happily ever after! Yay!
> 
> I have one or two more stories that have to do with Barca/Pietros and birthdays so I'll add that to the series soon.


End file.
